I’m Releasing You from Me
I’ll be okay, I assure you. I’ve found a lot of people who make me laugh. I’ve found myself again, in the mornings, when you’re not there for coffee time; in the afternoons, when I come home from work and there’s no one under the sheets.
I’ll be okay, believe me. I’m fine, even though I see you every ten seconds in every café, every time I search through the sheets for something to lean on. I’m telling you: being here is not the same as being with me. You’re not here anymore, but you’re still with me.
I’m fine; I’ve opened my arms to new memories that you won’t be a part of. But I confess that they’re not enough to keep me from feeling so cold.
You’re not here anymore, but I see you everywhere
Writing is the hardest and most cowardly way that I know of to tell you that I miss you wholeheartedly, but that I need to live my life – just like you’re doing without me. That is, if we can’t be one anymore, it’s better for us to learn how to be ourselves. People tell me that whoever wants to be with me needs to accept that I am who I am.
It’s been a long time since you were here, but I keep seeing you everywhere I go. You know, all those places that bring up all the affection that I still have for you. They still contain all the happiness once was there, because beneath all the bad stuff, there are things that really made us laugh.
It’ll be hard to stop seeing each other, but the best advice I can give us is to be as strong as we dared to be when we started this. I know it’s not the same, I know that you’re there and I’m here, but we can do it. I can do it.
I’m releasing you from me
People have also told me – and this is the true reason I’m writing this – that the best way to end the pain is to release it. That’s why, without resentment and without hate, I’m offering you all the freedom you need. I’m not referring to things that are already clear, that you’ve heard before; I’m referring to letting you truly be, without blame, regrets, or tears.
That’s why the best thing to do, at least for now, is for us to forget everything: all the Sundays at your house, all the movies we watched together when I would always fall asleep, all the meals that we won’t share anymore. Let’s let go of all the dreams we never achieved, my bad mood that kept you from smiling, our sadness, our happiness. Let’s turn the page.
Let’s say goodbye to all the cities we saw together, to all the firsts that will also be the lasts, to what you’ve taught me and what I could have taught you. Let’s start from zero. I’m releasing you from me, in the same way that I’m releasing every place that once saw us and now doesn’t see us anymore.
I’m saying goodbye without completely knowing how to do it, because I know that I have to if I don’t want you to be the one to say goodbye to me. I’m sure that you’ll agree with me on this: if we can’t be the way we once were, the healthiest thing to do is be something different; and now if there’s no way to be, the only thing that can help us is to not be.
“Today, I’m releasing you.
I’m releasing you from me,
from my troubles,
from those endless Sunday afternoons,
from the hatred of my birthdays,
of not knowing what to give you
that you don’t have or you won’t lose.
I’m releasing you from my disappointment,
from your karma,
from my new stories,
from the contradiction that invaded me
and I showed.
I’m releasing you from my calls,
from my messes,
from my hair,
Chinese, long, and unkempt
that got tangled in your fingers and hurt me.
I’m releasing you from my conscience,
from the falls and the rises,
from this escape.
I’m releasing you from the ellipsis,
by question marks or exclamation points,
in line with all the orthographic rules that have been and are yet to come.
I’m releasing you from the door that you just closed,
so that you can go,
so that you can leave me,
so that you can see me from far away and want me less and less every day,
even though it hurts me in the deepest corners of my heart.”